Page 60 of Quarter Miles (Runaway 3)

That day, I’d fallen in love with Cash. That day had been the turning point from like to love. That day was also the last day a goat had lived on the Greer ranch.

“Remember the time we went dancing at the bar and you bent to flip me over and your pants split down the ass?” I asked. “I’ve never laughed so hard in my life.”

“In my defense, those were very old pants.” He chuckled. “How about that time you and Easton got into an eating contest over a plate of nachos?”

“Please don’t say that word.” I grimaced. Nachos were now classified with green beans.

We talked for another hour, reminiscing about old times. It was what I’d miss as we adjusted to a new normal. I’d mourn the loss of our friendship for a long, long time.

My butt had fallen asleep. My legs needed to stretch. I opened my mouth to tell Cash I was going to take a walk down the beach when suddenly his hands were cupping my face and his tongue swept past my lips.

I moaned, falling into him as we kissed on the beach. The taste of his lips, the soft caress of his hands, the tickle of his beard, it was the best kiss of my life.

He shoved off the sand, holding out a hand to help me to my feet. Then he threaded my fingers through his and led me across the beach to the stairs that led to The Gallaway. We didn’t pause or linger on the way to our room. We didn’t hesitate to strip one another of our clothes and fall into bed, a tangled mess of limbs.

We passed the hours of the day exploring each other’s bodies. When Aria called, I told her I would just see her tomorrow. Cash and I ordered room service and ate naked in bed. And only when the sunlight had faded to moonlight through the window did we settle in to sleep. And to speak.

“I don’t think we should tell anyone about this,” I said. We were facing each other, our hands joined between us. “When we get home.”

He stared into my eyes and kissed one of my knuckles.

I waited, wondering what was going on in his head but he didn’t speak. “Cash.”

Silence.

“Say something,” I whispered.

“Tomorrow.” He tucked a strand of hair away from my face. Then he closed his eyes and drifted to sleep.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow, he’d say his goodbye.

The morning sun was barely above the horizon when I snuck out of the hotel the next morning. Once again, I took the coward’s way out. Because I couldn’t say goodbye. Not yet.

So I left him a note.

See you in Montana.

Chapter Twelve

Cash

“Could this elevator be any fucking slower?” I muttered. “I hate this hotel.”

The couple standing beside me shared a look that I caught in the reflection from the polished silver walls.

I ignored them and growled. Was this how horses felt when you trapped them in their stalls? Itching and uncomfortable and desperate for freedom?

My molars ground together, the grating sound filling the car, until the light bar finally illuminated the number one. The doors slid open and though I wanted out, I waved a hand for the couple to exit first. They skittered away.

I marched from the elevator, scanning the lobby for Katherine. The note she’d left me this morning was crumpled so tight I could use it as a golf ball.

When my hand had stretched for hers this morning, I’d found stiff paper and cold cotton sheets instead of warm skin, and I was goddamn tired of searching for her in this place.

She didn’t do this at home. She didn’t disappear the moment I looked away. I found her at the office more often than not, but that was for work. She’d never avoided me so much.

Had she?